I Wouldn't Mind if We Blamed It On the Rain
by iKiller-Panda
Summary: England is suddenly struck by thoughts he never thought he'd have about his best friend and former colony. He goes to Prussia for advice and when he finally confesses, it doesn't go exactly as planned. US/UK Onesided PruCan M for safety on swears.
1. Realisation

**A/N: Well… Welcome to my first multi-chapter serious fanfiction! Couples in here are US/UK and Onesided-PruCan. Couples that might make an appearance; Franada, Spamano, RoChu, GerIta, SuFin. Thank you for clicking and possibly reading my fanfic. Now please enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I don't Hetalia nor will I ever and if I did so much smut and fluff would be in that … yeah. XD**

How had exactly had he ended up in this situation? The man in question furrowed his brows in frustration. He shouldn't feel such feelings, think such thoughts. It was just wrong to think of _him_ in such a way. Staring to the sky, his emerald green eyes blankly studied the grey clouds forming in the once blue sky. _Like his eyes-NO. I must not think of him in such ways. He's a friend… nothing more. _

He knew the crystal drops from the grey clouds was inevitable, yet made no effort to move his aching limbs. How long had he been standing here? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? Such things didn't matter to him anymore. He was worthless, stupid, his own definition of a 'git'.

"Arthur Kirkland, you have gone and royally fucking screwed up your life. Are you proud now?" The words slipped from his chilled lips. No one was around to hear them, the park in which he was standing in was empty due to the soon to fall rain. He wasn't speaking to another person; however, he was merely speaking to himself.

Soon enough, the pounding of the rain hit the leaves nearby, alerting him to the rainfall. _He isn't going to show Arthur, give up already. Go home._ Common sense was whispering within his ears. Should he listen? Should he close off all his feelings and just go home? Pretend he never felt this way? Pretend that he wasn't about to confess to his closest friend for the second time?

Laughter echoed in his ears, though as he looked around him, moving his stiff limbs for the first time, no sight of a human being was there. His heart sank with misery, blaming him for getting so worked up over a mere sound in his ears. It was only his mind, playing a sound he wanted to hear. _His laughter._ The words didn't have to appear in his head, for the moment they hit his ears he recognised it.

He himself started to giggle, was he turning into Ivan? Going insane slowly, ripping apart his soul? No, it was merely nerves, shock, and a major overload of emotions. Who wouldn't feel like releasing a bit of tension? Sure, laughing wasn't exactly the most common way or releasing stress, but it was better then other options, no?

That frog would be laughing at him, seeing him in such a state. "_You've really fallen head over feet in love with __votre ancienne colonie, no?Bahahaha, you're so sick! You deserve this~!"_ Headache ensued after the mere thought of that bloody toad. Arthur hissed through his teeth. You can't fully blame him!

The fact that Alfred went around flaunting his body, the way he acted like he was better then anyone. Sure, it might be annoying, but it was a loveable annoying! N-Not that Arthur liked Alfred. Su-Sure his oceanic blue eyes were hypnotising, intoxicating, but that didn't affect Arthur!

… Who was he kidding? He was absolutely in love with the bloody fool, no matter how much his mind or he denied it, it was the complete truth. Gazing down to his shaking hands, he realised that soon enough, rain would be upon him… Then why was there wetness already upon his cheeks?

That's when his full situation registered in his mind. Here he was standing, some lovesick fool, awaiting the impending rain, shivering and have a _fucking meltdown_. "I wish you could see the way you make me, driving me insane…" He muttered, again to no one, not even his faerie friends. "I should just enjoy this time, without his presence, which thanks to my actions, will probably never enter my life again. At least, willingly." Smiling bitter-sweetly, he stared at the sky, the clear drops rushing down his face, cooling down the heat which had rushed through them while thinking of _Him._

Closing his eyes, he recalled what had happened.

A normal world meeting had just ended, full of the normal fights and bickering, et cetera. Yet Arthur himself felt different. What was different at this world meeting? Maybe it was the fact that America had decked himself out in ridiculous(ly) tight black jeans and a black shirt with an overlapping leather jacket. To anyone else, this would be a mere fashion statement. However, for this British _Gentleman_, it made him think… Certain rather improper thoughts.

Now, for just anyone, they would have brushed this aside and simply moved on. However this was not the case for Arthur Kirkland, for nothing in his life was as simple. This one, slightly innocent slip of the mind, led to several others, which quickly, his mind denied. Leaving Arthur in a complicated mess, he decided the best thing to do was to take pen to paper, and write down how he felt.

Rushing back to his room, determined to make some sense of his troubled thoughts, Arthur grabbed the nearest writing utensil and paper and voiced his thoughts. Scribbling out several times, he finally figured out the right way his mind was set, and so he wrote:

"_Just thinking of you gives me a headache-_

I can't stop thinking of you-

_You make me sick-_

With the warmth that fills my being-

_You're such an idiot-_

But that's your charm-

_I smirk at you when I do something better-_

Only because I want you to realize how hard I try to impress you-

_I can't stand you-_

Being away for too long-

_Go away-_

Hug me-

_I'm not feeling well...-_

Because you don't recognize something right in front of you-

_Maybe I hate you-_

I love you."

**A/N: Ok, this is the first chapter of this fic. I don't know how many chapters it will take up, but possibly 4 at the least? –Shrugs-**

**I'm actually really happy with this fic, and it's my first multi-chapter. I hope I don't fail. **

**RANT WARNING :D! **

**And… No one would be able to guess this but many of the bits in this story are things that have happened with me in real life. I'm called England in my friend group and one of my best friends is America(She's so him.. it's kinda scary). I've fallen for her, head over heels. She doesn't know and I'm thinking of using this story as a confession at the end of the year. I don't know if I'm gonna, she says she's 100% straight but all my friends and their gay-dars say she's probably Bi but in denial. (They've said this before I told two of them that I like her). I seriously like her, and normally I don't fall for people I have love-hate relationships with, or even stay friends with them. But our relationship is so much different from the others… So yeah, the inspiration for this fic comes from me being in love with my best friend.**

**Next chapter Gilbert makes an appearance. :D**

**And yes, all poems in here I wrote myself. **

**And the inspiration for the title comes from songs by HE IS WE. I highly recommend listening to it, they're fantastic. The songs are I wouldn't mind and Blame it on the Rain**

**Reviews are love and biscuits(Or cookies) are awarded to those who do! .. At least over the internet. **


	2. Helpful Advice from an Unlikely Source

**A/N: Well here it is, chapter two! Honestly I'm nervous as hell posting this for you guys; I don't want to let you down. –cue worrywartness.- Well, just a small warning that I might have over used the F-word in here, my writing style is to write whatever comes to mind… And I don't really edit it. XD Anyways, please enjoy! **

**Also, a thank you to all the people who favorited/reviewed/story alerted this. You honestly all surprised me. Thank you so much, you made me happy beyond what a person should be happy about. XD Also, thank you for the support! UGH I GOTTA STOP RANTING. Enjoy.**

**Yes a random long chapter. I don't know why it's so long. XD**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia and I never will and I could never come up with something so amazing. ;w;**

His eyes widened as his arm, as if without his control, wrote the last line. He was… in love with the bloody wanker? Tha… That couldn't possibly be true! Alfred was his little brother, his former colony! Loving him was just wrong… incestuous you might even say! Then words all too familiar echoed in his ears, "_I'm not your little brother anymore."_ As much as the truth was painful, he grabbed his heart as an overwhelming feeling over took him and his body collapsed to the floor.

Other hand grabbing his forehead, he tried to rid himself of the pain that filled his being. He wasn't _physically_ hurt, so what had done so? What had hurt him so badly, he was on the floor crying like a freaking baby? Is this was longing for someone felt like? Like your soul was being torn apart? Like Nothing, Nothing at all could be done to help you, because no one could simply _understand_? If this is what love was, he didn't want it. That bloody frog could keep his _l'amoure_. It was too much pain to be worth anything.

His body decided to react in the one way that it could think of, and the scream that erupted from his lungs certainly did not sound feminine and shrill. It didn't chill your bones and sound like someone was suffering a thousand deaths. It didn't make him feel like a child, screaming and begging for his mother when he was lost and scared. A single word echoed from his mouth, tumbling out clumsily on his tongue. "Loneliness…"

Forcing his body to sit up, Arthur stumbled over to his desk again. He needed to write down these words, before they choked him. They were building inside him, he needed some outlet, and fast, for he knew others probably heard his embarrassing scream and melt-down, which means someone would burst through that door at any moment. His hand shook uncontrollably as his mind spat out words and he wrote them down;

"Is there any-Word-

That could possibly-

Sum up this Mess-

I don't feel-

Whole-

I don't feel-

Empty-

What is it-

That makes me feel-

In such-

An indescribable way-

Sunlight on one's Being-Yet-

There's no sun-

No matter how much-

It may be in my desires-

Nothing is there-

To fill that void-

Of when-

You'll never be there-

All I can do-

Is to fake a smile-

Not let you see-

You can never witness-

What you do to me-

Just live your life-I think it'll be-

Enough for my soul-

To carry on-even thought you'll never know how much-

I truly love you."

"Love." There was that word again, as he breathed it aloud. The word felt foreign on his lips, love was not a word used commonly in his everyday dictation. Alfred… had really stolen his heart… huh? He didn't even realise that tears were still sliding down his cheeks until the words on the page in front of him began to blur. "Comatose…" Another word he mouthed aloud. Is that how he felt without Alfred? In a comatose state of being? He would guess so.

He shivered as he realised how worn down he had made his body. His hand cramped from writing so furiously; his eyes from the tears that continued to find their way down his cheeks; and his heart from the pain and suffering he was going through. His head hurt from the breakdowns and he could do nothing as his body yet again fell to the floor. Closing his eyes, he drifted off to a miserable sleeping state.

His eyes flickered open as sunlight trickled in from the blinds of his windows. He slowly sat up, trying to recall just what had happened exactly. The softness of sheets and blankets surprised him, had he not fallen asleep on the floor? Groggily, he stood up from his mattress, walking over to his desk, where he had left the poems of his emotions. Both were still there, however they were accompanied by a note. It wasn't written by someone Arthur knew well, since it didn't trigger a certain name in his mind.

"Hey Arthur,

I know we only hang when drunk and shit, since I'm probably too awesome for you to handle regularly, but man… You were a mess when I found you… And from these poems-that is what they are right- I can decipher that it's Alfred that's the problem with you. Come talk to the awesome me right after you wake up. It's an order.

Sincerely,

Gilbert the King of Awesomeness"

Prussia? That is who Gilbert was, right? Arthur couldn't care less at the moment. It was more the fact that someone was paying attention to his pain and wanting to hear about it. He knew from mere eyesight that Prussia himself was dealing with problems of his emotions and love and whatever this jumble was. It couldn't hurt to go see the poor ex-nation.

He looked into the mirror, seeing for the first time what this emotion train-ride was actually doing to him. He snickered to himself when he realised that Gilbert was right, he looked like _bloody hell_. His naturally messy blonde hair was literally going in all directions, sticking out in random spots. His normally fiery emerald eyes were dull, without the life that normally fueled them. Examining of his cheeks revealed tear stains, showing that he really had sobbed. "Wow… I didn't know that I would ever get this worked over something…" _Or someone_. The last part was remained unspoken, but from his tone, it was obvious.

Attempting to mane his messy mop of hair, Arthur sighed and decided to the hell with it and to make a cup of tea before heading over to Gilbert. At least he'd have a calming cup of Earl Gray Tea before going to cover to the albino that he _didn't like Alfred in any way of that matter_.

He quickly sipped his tea, though making sure to take time to relish it properly, and then grabbed his jacket and head out his door. _What room was he in again? 203 or 205? Bloody hell, there's too many doors in this bloody hotel._ That's when he noticed a sign on one of the doors, saying, "LAIR OF AWESOMENESS. THOSE WHO ARE NOT AWESOME MAY NOT ENTER." Only two people would write something like that, and the one he wasn't looking for would have written something about 'being the hero' or something idiotic like that. He raised his knuckle to the door, knocking gently three times.

The door quickly flung open in his face, revealing a rather pissed looking Prussian shouting "I TOLD YOU RODDY IT WASN'T ME WHO TOLD LIZZY TO HOOK YOU UP WITH SWI-Oh… Hello England." The white-haired albino blinked at the presence of the Englishman, rubbing the back of his head.

"What are you such a git that you forgot you told me to come over?" Arthur quickly snapped, not in the mood for anything not serious.

Gilbert shook his head no, "I just thought you wouldn't come, because I'm not a nation or anything, ya know… Well, look at me I'm being rude, come on in I got some cold beer in the fridge 'cause I'm that awesome." Without waiting for a response, the Prussian turned around and walked back inside his room. It was almost exactly the same as Arthur's, which explained why he knew where Arthur's bed was. "I'd rather not have anything to drink just yet, I need a clear mind." Not that you could call his jumbled mess of a mind 'clear'.

He shook head whilst scolding, Arthur followed the Prussian inside the room. He took a look around before deciding the couch on the far side would be the best place to sit. Sitting himself down, he looked at Prussia who was seated on the bed, before he started to pick out the words he would use to explain how he was _not_ in love with Alfred. Until the man spoke that is.

"Ya know… I do know how you feel." After receiving a startled look from the British man he followed up with. "Yeah I know un-awesome huh? Even the fucking amazing me can be hurt. Though," With this he gave Arthur an exasperated look. "Unlike you and your lover boy, I don't hide it." Wait. Who did Gilbert like?

"What? Wait, he's not my lover boy!"

"Yeah whatever, but anyways, back to the awesome me. Yes," Gilbert gave a dramatic look of sorrow, "I, the amazing, the shit, the awesome me, am _fucking in love with Mattie!!_" The man stood up punching the air in a dramatic way. Diva?

"Who?" _Mattie? Some chick? Who was that?  
_

"…"

"What?"

"You're fucking kidding me. You fucking raised this awesome kid, and you don't even remember his name?"

"… I only remember America, Jamaica, et cetera."

"… It's Canada you fucking idiot. Matthew Williams. America's _little brother_."

"… Oh yeah. I… I guess I forgot about him."

"Yeah, no surprise there." The albino commented sarcastically, turning away. "But anyways yes, I am in love with Matthew. You're in love with Alfred, we need to help one another. I don't think I'll have too much trouble, because I mean come on it's the awesome me. You, on other hand, my… friend, you need help to stop being so in so much _gott damn denial_!"

The finger pointed in Arthur's face towards the end of Prussia's short rant/speech was rather unexpected. The British man blinked in surprise before pushing the finger out of his personal space. "I'm not in denial because… Because…," His voice began to crack and the last part he could barely whisper out, "I'm not in love…" Even to his own ears he knew this was completely false. He was in love just like a little school girl and her crush.

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that." Gilbert was obviously not convinced by England's horrible attempt at denying it.

Arthur didn't have to be told twice, he knew he was caught and never getting out of this. Gilbert knew… Gilbert knew… Dammit, why can't he admit it to himself in his mind?! "So… why am I here?" He asked, remembering that Gilbert was supposed to be giving him more advice.

"Simple. I'm giving you advice!" _Whack_. England had smacked his face with his hand.

"I could kinda understand that… But… what should I do?"

"Again, simple! First step to everything, admit you have a problem!" With this line Arthur threw pillow at the Prussian's face, clearly getting drained by his stupid responses.

"Ok, ok chill, stop pmsing~!" Another pillow thrown. "Fine, well… I basically know what's going on due to those awesome poems you wrote. I think you should confess!"

… Confess? To Alfred? _Was Gilbert serious_?! "Ho… How does one go about… Con.. Confessing?" England struggled with his words.

"Hm.. Since you aren't good at cooking or as awesome as me, you can't simply say it," The man stated sitting back down on the bed across from Arthur. "… So you should write a letter confessing! That's so you! You're good with words! Though you're not as awesome as me!"

A love letter? Now if this wasn't making him like a fucking little school girl, he didn't know what would. Although… it was rather romantic. His cheeks flushed at the simple thought of _writing_ the love letter let alone _giving_ it to America.

"You agree with me I see," Gilbert announced whilst grinning, "Then again, who wouldn't?"

"… You know Gilbert, you may be way to fucking obsessed with yourself that's not healthy for a normal human being," Gilbert flinched from Arthur's words, until he saw a warm smile spread onto the man's face. "But you're not really that bad. Best of luck with Matthew. Treat him well; else Francis, Alfred and I might not be treating you so warmly." With that the English gentleman stood up, waved good-bye, and walked out the door.

What he didn't see was Gilbert looking after him, a look of misery on his face. He knew Mattie wouldn't accept his love. It was all in his head. An act. How else would Arthur listen?

Arthur continued down the hall, reaching his room, opening the door, taking off his jacket, stripping his top down to nothing, and laid back on his bed. Now what? Well... He could always start that letter. His only problem was that he _didn't_ know how to start it. So instead, he looked at his ceiling and sighed, closing his eyes, hoping for an idea to come to mind or to drift off and take a nap.

**A/N: Man, now that Gibert's scene is done with, I'm gonna be a bit upset writing. XD –shot- He's just so much fun to write! I mean seriously! He's too awesome to not be so much fun to write! –bricked-**

**Gilbert=One of my closest friends who knows about my love for the other friend that we have in common. She/he seriously is a major help. I love you Ace! Thanks so much!**

**Uhm, for the next update, it might not be for a week or so. It depends on when I get time to write. School is getting really stressful and I have tennis and a Play. [Rant] Plus the fact that I'm going to the doctors on Monday for these weird headache kind of things in the back of my head and that I'm losing memory slowly. I was asked to remember a childhood memory and I **_**just couldn't**_**. Now this might not seem troubling, but if you asked me a year or so ago I would have been able to list of a ton. I normally have a good memory. I also forgot who I was for a minute one day. It was really scary. So yeah, update might be slow. ^^;;**

**Review is love, spread the love people! (Now I sound like a hippie –shot-)**


	3. The Beginning

**A/N: Lookie here! I actually got some free time to write today! –because she has no life!- I must say, I'm really pleased with this chapter. :D And Spamano and Franada make an appearance in this chapter.**

**Thank you all for the awesome reviews and for Story-alerting or Favoriting! Gilbert declares you all awesome!**

**WARNING: Very Mainer-ish opinionated views on the late day politics and economy. I don't know if this is how the rest of the country views it, but most of the people I know feel this way. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia and I never will so stop making me say this being sad.**

**Final note: While reading this, please listen to any of the OST music for the anime Clannad. It really adds to the effect. Enjoy!**

The next week was pure hell for Arthur, for some reason, Alfred had decided to either; start an argument with him; or 'hang out' with him. How was he supposed to come up with his letter if he didn't have any alone time?

"Hey! Iggy!" Today seemed no different.

"What could you possibly want you git?"

"I thought we could head out to McDonalds today after the meeting, and don't lie to me, I know you love it." The younger nation beamed down at him. "Come on, don't be such a loser, old man~!"

Arthur glared back at him. "What are you blabbering about?! I'm not old, fuck; look wise I'm not much older than you!" He hissed back, clearly ticked off.

"Woah, woah, chillax! I was just joking Artie," The nickname for his real name caused Arthur's cheeks to flush a bit. "Come on! It'll be like a date!" Cue Arthur's cheeks to flush a red that rivaled Antonio's tomatoes. He swore his heart leapt. It was from the fact of McDonalds, not because he was going with Alfred, most certainly not from the fact that he just called it a date. The fact that Arthur was supposed to be writing a letter to Alfred didn't help either. "Except not." The younger man quickly added to his words.

…

…

Well _that_ kind of hurt. Not that Arthur would let the pain show, but he-unfortunately-thought his body flinched from the words. Damn, he was turning into such a Pansy. "Fine, I'll go. Don't get into your head it's for you, I'm only doing it for free food." He said turning, making sure any blush on his face was minimum, to face America. The man was grinning, as if it was possible, from ear to ear. "GREAT! I'll see you after the meetin'!" And with that, the man was off, leaving Arthur to walk to the meeting room alone.

A feeling overwhelmed him, as if he missed the idiot's presence, as if no other presence _mattered_. Wiping away the wetness that suddenly appeared in his eyes, Arthur hurried to the conference room, just wanting to have somebody else's presence near him.

Of course, he was the very first person in the room. His eyes scanned the room, looking for something to do. Spotting a box of chalk, he walked over and picked it up, taking out a fresh piece of chalk. He could write the guidelines on the board… Except for the fact that _Germany had the guidelines_. Well, that was a dilemma, wasn't it? He put the chalk down before taking his seat and sulking until the second person to arrive.

Luckily, that person was Germany. The man was always right on time. Arthur glanced at his watch, and sure enough 10:00 was stated clear as day, and the other nations started trickling in the room after the stoic German.

All the nations were seated, except for one. Damnit, why was that git always so late?! For sure the man would be prancing in here, late; whilst shouting something like, "I'm not late ya'll are just too early! The Hero is never late!"

That isn't what happened.

Instead, the normally cheerful, happy-go-lucky annoying nation walked into the room. That isn't the problem though. The problem was _that the man was absolutely dreadfully silent_. Something was not right. Did someone shut down McDonalds or something? "Late as usual, Alfred?" He called out to the country as Alfred walked slowly over to sit next to him. Shit. He didn't mean to sound so mean. Apparently he had chosen very poor words, for the man he spoke to flinched and reluctantly took a seat next to him.

The silence continued the rest of the meeting. Everything carried through smoothly, and no one raised any stupid arguments. Most were too busy wondering why Alfred was quiet and… _frowning_. His brows were furrowed and if you got past the glare on Texas, you could see heavy bags. Not that Arthur was staring and analyzing his face.

It just wasn't right. Arthur was sure of that. It just wasn't the same without the senseless blabbering about the worst ideas ever. Finally, someone dared to break the silence.

"Alfred, why so depressed, da?"

Ivan. He would. He would ask one of the largest superpowers why he was depressed, he would step on a ticking time-bomb.

"… Hnn? You said something, Russia?" America replied half-paying attention. Ok, _something was really not right_. "Al-Alfred..?" The other mans name slipped off his lips. Shit.

"What'd you want, England?" _You, in my bed moaning and panting._ He slapped his cheek slightly, forcing away the thoughts. "You look… Depressed,"_ No shit he knows that_. "Is something the matter?"

The man in question slowly turned to face him. "… I'll be honest..." A very serious and grim look was on his face, making Arthur's throat tighten. "… My Country, the beautiful lands I live for… Is falling apart…" The words sunk into Arthur's mind, as he felt his eyes widen to a size he didn't know was possible.

"Falling… Apart?" He echoed, as if trying to make sense of it. He turned away from the American, staring at the table with a horrified expression. America-Alfred, one of the world's largest superpowers was… Failing? As he sunk deep in thought he heard a soft humming from beside him, "/Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,/" Arthur flinched, it was the words written during... _that time_. "/What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?/ Whose broad stripes and bright stars, thru the perilous fight,  
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?/" The man stopped singing, before breaking down and releasing all his tension. "Fuck them…" He watched the younger nation whisper out.

"All they do is fucking lie to my people!" Arthur winced at the sudden shouting. Everyone's eyes flew to the blonde superpower that had suddenly stood up and screamed. "They tell nothing but lies, they say the nation is doing well but I'm _fucking not!_ Do they not see my suffering? How the stock market is continuing to _crash!_ The government doesn't give a fuck anymore! People starving and you know what they do? _They cut Medicare_." His tone was harsh, as if he'd been holding this in for a really long time. The entire room was silent for once, not one of the over one hundred countries dared to speak up. "It's… it's not _fair_..." His voice started to choke, the emotions bubbling over. "It's not fucking _fair_!" "It's not… _Hiccup_ .. Fair… it's not… it's not…" The once powerful nation was leaning over the table, tears streaking down his face.

The room continued to be silent and Arthur couldn't see a single dry eye. No one had realised what pain, what suffering the younger nation was going through. He is so young… Yet he's already been through so much. It's not like he's weak like either Italy brother or France, he's powerful. Arthur was sure everyone around the table, even the oblivious Spain, could feel the guilt wracked inside their bodies. Maybe it wasn't as strong as his. Maybe it didn't come from the love and protection he felt for Alfred, but they all were his allies, his friends.

He met eyes with Prussia, whom had tagged along with Germany for the meeting and was sitting next to Canada. The man sent a sympathetic smile his way and with a small hand gesture, told him to comfort Alfred. Arthur blinked his eyes glancing at the crumbling nation next to him and back to his… friend? He guessed they were kinda that now. Nodding once to him, he turned to the smaller nation, before startling everyone. He then _hugged_ the man tightly to him-resting his head on the younger country's head. Arthur stroked his hands through the soft blonde hair, whilst the man sobbed into his shoulder. He knew Alfred hated it when he babied him like this, but the nation was allowing it.

"You'll make it Alfred…" The words started to slip of his tongue and out of his control. "I won't allow you to slip so easily, if you're gone who'll make all the stupid suggestions for me to shoot down?" Tears were sliding down is cheeks in pairs, more and more tumbling over as his speech slurred in between sobs. "You just can't go Alfred, no one here will allow it… We'll make sure of it… I swear.." He knew everyone's eyes were on them, watching him, but he did not care at all. Burying his face in the blonde hair, he let the man continue to cry into his shoulder, whilst he cried into his hair. Then words tumbled off his lips again, starting off as garbled and slowly turning into an old familiar lullaby.

"Come stop your crying  
it will be all right  
just take my hand

Hold it tight

I will protect you  
from all around you  
I will be here  
Don't you cry

For one so small,  
you seem so strong  
My arms will hold you,  
keep you safe and warm  
This bond between us  
Can't be broken  
I will be here  
Don't you cry."

The song carried around the room, echoing in everyone's ear. Anyone who had a version of this song in their country quickly understood that Alfred very much appreciated this song, enough to have Walt Disney incorporate it into one of his movies. As Arthur listened, he heard Alfred's breathing slowed, until it was steady and no sobs continued. The man had drifted off to sleep on his shoulder, at the realisation of this, England's face flushed a deep red, causing aforementioned Spaniard to exclaim, "Look Lovi! His face looks just like yours when you look like _un poco de tomate_*!"

Arthur smiled gently as he watched the younger nation spin around to the curly-haired idiot and retort. "Don't you dare call me that!" although his face turned a red that beat his own blush any day. The two were so obviously crazy about one another; Romano just had a funny way of showing it. Arthur understood that funny way, because it was his own way of showing his affection for people. He glanced down at the sleeping figure thinking, _how does he show his affection? Does he shower them with love, or is he like Romano and me?_ He glanced at Germany, who caught his eye and nodded affirmatively.

"I declare this meeting adjourned!" A sigh of relief echoed throughout the room. As Arthur truly took a look around, he saw Canada sobbing his poor little heart out and… "Oh bloody hell no!" He hissed under his breath. The nation was being comforted… but by the wrong person! "_Chut chut mon amour, ne pleure pas, l'Angleterre a calmé votre frère. L'Amérique sera fine*."_

France. Of course France would make a movie on the young naïve country. He would move onto territory that was already claimed by _his best friend_. Did he not notice the Prussian on the opposite side of him, looking like his heart was broken? Where was the confident, 'awesome' Gilbert? Why didn't he attack Francis? _It's because he's already given up_. The words echoed in his mind as reality sunk in. Here he was, practically snuggling with Alfred, and Gilbert was suffering. Arthur knew this wasn't the only cause. Just recently had the man begun to act himself again, after Elizaveta dumped him because of some reason between themselves. All he knew is that by the lovey-dovey way Hungary and Austria acted around one another, they weren't 'just friends' anymore. So in reality, Gilbert was suffering two losses, both by close or formerly close friends. Ouch.

His body began to ache under the weight of the younger man. He couldn't hold him like he used to, back when he was just a baby nation. Quickly he thought of an idea.

"Matthew!" The nation across from him looked up in shock, not used to being recognised by England, "Help me carry your brother to his room please?" He politely asked and the man nodded quickly, wiping away the tears in his eye. France released his grip on him and Matthew stood up and walked over to England, lifting his twin off of Arthur. Arthur then stood up himself and wrapped one of America's arms around his shoulder, whilst Canada did the same on the other side.

It was silent the entire trip to Alfred's room, which it turned out to be Matthew's room as well. When they reached the door Canada opened the door and let Arthur in with America's sleeping body. He gently laid the man down, softly placing his head on the pillow. He sat beside the bed on a chair that Matthew had pulled up for him. One of his hands was resting in America's hair, the other one holding his hand. Sighing softly, he gazed with a parental loving look at the young nation. That's when ideas hit him; they started flowing through his mind. He had to write these down before they left him. He looked up and saw a smirk on Canada's face before nodding saying, "Gil told me, go ahead back to your room. Better get your butt in gear to start that letter; you only have three more days."

**A/N:**

**Translations:**

_**un poco de tomate-**_** A little tomato**

_**Chut chut mon amour, ne pleure pas, l'Angleterre a calmé votre frère. L'Amérique sera fine**_**-Hush, Hush my love, do not cry. England calmed your brother down. America will be fine. **

**Any translations that are off, blame google translate. I don't know French or Spanish. –taking Latin- XD**

**I really. Really. REALLY. Enjoyed writing this chapter, I just hope I didn't let you down! **

**Like I mentioned before, the events in this story are based on real-life actions between her and my friends that are like the characters.**

**She really did say that thing about a date, but it was to go see the movie How to Train Your Dragon. **

**Ciao everyone!**

**Awesome people review, are you feeling awesome today? –bricked-**


	4. All He Needs To Do Is Breathe

**A/N: Ok don't shoot me! I know this is two weeks late, but the school year is coming to a close and I had an essay AND craploads of homework last weekend. Then my first version of this chapter was lost because my hardrive died. **

**Thank you, everyone who favourited/reviewed/story-alerted this. 3**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or its characters only the plot.**

_Dear America,_

Nah, scratch that. Way too formal for this. Arthur rubbed the back of his head, staring blankly at the page in front of him. Where had all those amazing ideas gone? He stood, mind fuzzled as he tried to think of _something_ to write down. _Bloody hell why can't I think straight?_ In an act of frustration, he chucked his pen across the room, a loud _thud_ echoed in the small room as it slammed into the wall. Well, that helped a bit.

Glancing at the clock, Arthur scowled at seeing only being four o'clock in the afternoon. He was quite tired, but he didn't want to go to bed at such an early time. Damn the Americans and their bloody time being behind. It was nine o'clock in London! He yawned, rubbing his eyes as he tried to think of something that could keep him awake. Maybe he could go for a walk around town? That sounded good.

Yes, alone time would be good. Arthur then realised the irony, since he _was_ having alone time. Well then, alone time _outside_ would be good. Taking a deep breath, trying to release tension, he headed for the door. It was only when he was half-way down the hall when he realised he doesn't know his way around Washington D.C. Standing for a moment and pondering, he decided he didn't give a shit whether or not he got lost.

_Then again, if that idiot finds me, he'll make fun of m-_ Arthur slapped his cheek, interrupting the thought abruptly. _Don't think of him! Alone time! Right, alone time!_ He chuckled to himself, not noticing where he was headed. He was fine alone; he didn't need anyone's company! Certainly not any sandy-blonde git's! "Aahahaha~ I'm fine, I won't get lost! Only Austria can get lost!"

He continued walking, confirming to himself that he was fine without America when he passed a stream. "… Wait a minute." He froze as his eyes widened and he felt the colour drain from his face. There are no streams in town! Where was he? His eyes made a mad dash around him, trying to take in the surroundings, to find something familiar.

"_Mister, Mister!"_ A small voice called out. England blinked confused, it sounded like a creature-like his faeires, but they all referred to him by his name… and none of them _woofed_ either… "_There you are Mister England! You're quite the hard man to find you know that? Your friends said it wouldn't be hard but it sur-SQUIRREL!"_ As Arthur slowly turned to the... creature, he saw fluffy golden fur and quickly figured out it was a golden retriever... But, why was it _talking_? Then he saw the fluffy wings on its back, and that it was kind of _hovering a foot off the ground_. Oh.

"He-Hello?" Arthur was kind of getting scared by this mythical creature dog thing. It was basically like having another Alfred. It kind of reminded him of one of the dogs in a recent movie that Alfred had made, what was it called again? Northwards? Positive? Whatever. * "Why are you here anyways, Mr..?"

"_I am here because friends reported you missing and I best tracker out of whole faerie kin'dom."_ The dog looked like it was grinning as it... fluttered over to Arthur and licking the man on the cheek.

"… Is that so?" Arthur winced and pushed the dog away. Now, he may be ridiculed for believing in faeries, but _this was a little ridiculous_. "A'right, who set you up to this?" He demanded, and most certainly did not strike a girly pose by placing his hands on his hips.

"… _You're real lonely ain'tcha Mister?I see it in ya eyes._" The dog faerie thing nodded it's head repeatedly, though slowly and not as energetic as it was before.

"N-No! I'm not lonely, and I am not lost either!" He puffed his cheeks out and could feel blood rushing through them.

"_Man, Denial much? Anyways… want to spill it out to me?_" Was Arthur about to tell all his personal life and miserable times to this random faerie dog? Yes… yes he was.

"You see Mr. Dog Faerie thing, I'm in love." He began, earning a strange look from the dog thing. "_That's it? Man.. I thought you were screwed some other wa-"_ Arthur glared at the beast making it shut up immediately. "I'm… in love with someone who I shouldn't be… I… just… shouldn't feel such things for Alfred…"

"_Woah, woah, wait a minute buster, why shouldn't ya feel such things for the man?_"

"I raised him…"

"…_Ya sick bastard! You're in love with ya kid?_"

"NO. He's not my son. He's more like a little brother, and we're not _actually_ related. We're nations, I just found him and helped him gr-"Arthur cut off with a sob. Describing what they were to the creature really hurt, it led to memories he _never_ wanted to think of again. He started to tremble, feeling weak and vulnerable as a child confessing lies and sins to a parent. He choked on something in is throat as he collapsed next to the stream.

"_Stop taxing me without my say England! It's starting to really piss off my people!_" Such old, cruel words echoed in his head. They felt raw, ripping open old, poorly stitched up wounds. "_England, you bastard, go die! My people are _sick and tired_ of your rule, I'm declaring independence!"_ The words weren't whispers or just normal talking voices. No, they were _screams_ and _shouts_ of the cold harsh truth. Alfred had left him before, what was going to make him come back? He made his decision, even if it was a deadly blow to Arthur.

He looked up at the dog creature, which his tired and delirious mind morphed into Alfred. The same shinning amazingly blue eyes, same messy dirty-blonde hair, same Nantucket… And same cold look when Alfred declared freedom. The silence in the air was riveting, bone-chilling, and mind-numbing. The man in front of him opened his jaws to speak. _No! Don't say anything! Don't say it!_ The words were roaring in Arthur's ears, yet the nation remained silent and let the man say his least favourite words in history.

"_**I'm not your little brother anymore**__._"

The words echoed in the forest, all around Arthur. They never seemed to stop, they just kept replaying, and replaying in his head. "Leave me alone!" He finally managed to try and scream, however, to words never made sound. His lips moved, yet no words tumbled out. Then, as if his body was no longer in his control, his lips moved again and the words, "I won't… I won't let you!" erupted from his lips. _Wait… what? I don't want to say that!_ Then his body continued to move without his permission, struggling to stand on his legs. Then his arms outstretched and he found himself aiming a rifle at the man. His eyes were frozen wide. It was no use, and he knew that, but his body continued to move without his permission.

"I_**won't**_let you!" The roar erupted from his chest, echoing all around them and his body then moved forward, running towards America.

Then, something different happened. Something that didn't really happen in history. A shot screeched through the air, and Arthur collapsed into the blood-curdling, freezing stream behind him before the world went black.

"Yeah guys, I found him.. Mhm! He was in the forest nearby; I wonder how he got here. He's out cold though." A familiar, annoying voice brought Arthur slowly back to reality.

… _OUCH._ An intense, rippling pain surged through Arthur's head that made he let out a yelp. Was he hung over? No. He wasn't feeling nauseous or anything, just a surging pain in his head. "_Ah-choo!"_ And apparently a cold as well, Arthur shivered as he felt wetness on his skin. Didn't the oblivious idiot notice that he was sitting here, shivering and in pain.

"Oh look, Iggy woke up! Gotta go, see you soon guys." And with that the man hung up and strutted over to him. "You finally awake old man?" All that Arthur responded with was a glare, as he felt too weak to move. "So, what gotcha all the way out here, passed out in a river, Iggy?"

_You._ The word screamed in England's head, but he didn't dare say it aloud. "I wanted to walk around town… and got lost in my thoughts I guess." It was the truth, since that really happened.

Then, everything rushed back to him, the random dog-faerie-thing and the hallucination. Everything. His emerald-green eyes widened with horror and he shoved the approaching American. "Stay away from me, don't hurt me!" he screamed in the man's face. Oops. That's right. It was only a figment of his imagination… Alfred didn't really… _shoot_ him.

"Woah, like, Chillax Artie! I ain't gonna harm you!" The nation England had just snapped at quickly responded by reaching out his arms and holding the shivering petite man in his arms. "Chillll~ you're fine, no one will harm you! The hero swears it to be so!" Thinking quickly, the hero-obsessed country took off his bomber jacket and gently placed it on the fragile man in his arms. "Let's go home, shall we?"

Arthur nodded solemnly, just wanting to get _out of there_. They walked-well America walked; England stumbled along beside him- back to the hotel in silence. When they arrived, everyone rushed over to him, looking panicked. Kiku, one of his close friends had a different look though… A sort of… knowing look. Whatever the look was, Arthur didn't like it.

"I can take myself to my room, thank you very much." He snipped at Alfred, but the man's grip on him only grew tighter. "Oh no~! You're not gonna just waltz down that hall. You'd fall and I'd have to help you all over again. Besides, the heros' jobs not done!" And with that the git flashed him a smile. Which of course, did _not_ make his heart soar to cloud nine! Before he even had a chance to retort the country lifted him over his shoulders and down the hall, leaving behind snickers that only one of them noticed.

"Here ya go Artie, Ya room."

"Thank you Alfred."

" 's no problem! Hey, whatcha say about spending the day together tomorrow? Sound good?"

_If only you knew how much that means to me. Oh well, you will soon enough, and that's good enough for me._ For once Arthur wore a soft smile and nodded, "Sure Alfred that sounds wonderful." With a wave, he closed the door and walked over to his desk, suddenly with an urge to write. He grabbed the nearest blank paper and wrote down on it;

"You'll never know. You'll never understand this fully. Pearly-white smile, amused-glittering eyes that greet me every morning. We don't wake up near each other. You're only so far away. Yet that distance names my life, sentences my feelings, shuts them away.

As you reach this line, you're probably very confused, you oblivious git. You have no idea why I've handed you this letter, do you? Unless you actually figured this out-then I applaud you. This letter is attached to something, and if this letter doesn't clear it up, that certainly will. I myself didn't understand this really at first. I being what the Japanese call a _ツンデレ _, aka a _Tsundere_, have denied it for days, weeks, months..

But maybe I don't feel like denying it any longer, maybe part of me wants _you_ to know. I deny it still, because that's my personality. I know you say what you say, and maybe by now you've realized what this letter is about. Just finish reading this letter and give it a bloody chance, ok?"

With that, Arthur gave a satisfied smirk as he finally got his letter started, and figured out what his inspiration was. He just need some faerie creature and the reason for the letter itself. That's when he realised,

"Oh fucking shit! I forgot to give him back his jacket!"

**A/N:**

***Arthur is talking about the Disney Pixar's Movie Up. Yes I based the dog's personality on Dug, he's too cute! But in real life, there really was a dog… Yeah basically she was driving us to school and she stopped to let a feminine looking male/masculine looking female(We couldn't tell XDD;;) and as she was saying, "Let's let the feminine looking boy/masculine looking girl pass-" I cut her off shouting and pointing to the parking lot nearby, "DOG!" There are many more animals that have distracted us. 333 (Any others mentioned have a story behind them too. :D) Writing the dog's horrible grammar made me cringe though. ;~;**

**It's done! Don't kill me!**

**And instead of her sharing her jacket with me, it's usually the other way around for us. XDD**

… **Nope! Nothing needs translating!**

**If this doesn't get updated right away, don't worry, it's only because I'm still in school.**

**Oh and question because I'm curious, how old do you think I am? Just guess! **

**Now then,**

_**Gilbert has cookies for those who are awesome and review, are you awesome and want a cookie?**_


	5. Don't Worry, It's Only His Heart

**A/N: I'm really looking forward to writing this chapter eek so many plans for it~ let's see what my attitude is at the end. XDD**

**Again, thank you everyone who reviews/favorites/alerts, you make this writer **_**very**_** happy with the simplest reviews. XD :3**

**Anyways, here we go!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia and never will stop making me so depressed and besides if I had, it'd be filled with smut an-Yeah. Shutting up now.**

**Enjoy! c:**

That night was restless for Arthur; he had never been so hyped about something-not that he wanted to spend time with the idiot, pfft why'd you think that? It's obviously because what ever they do he won't have to pay because Alfred invited him. Anyone with a penny's cent of knowledge could figure _that_ out.

Arthur's mind kept thinking of things he probably was over-exaggerating about in his mind; such as _what if I'm too boring? He does like over-exciting things. Oh shit I hope he doesn't take us places where he can flirt with other guys… wait it'd be even _worse_ if he flirted with _girls!_ I'd have no chance, oh man this sucks. Fuck, I _really_ hope he doesn't take us somewhere alcohol is served. If he orders it I'd have to too and everyone knows how that goes. Damn my politeness! Who knows what I'd say/do with it in my system…_ And so on, and so on. Needless to say, England was becoming a nervous wreck over this.

Tossing and turning probably didn't help, but Arthur didn't think of that-because his thoughts were focused on one thing, Alfred, Alfred, Alfred. _Get out, get out, and get out of my head!_ _You're always bugging me, even if you don't _try. He held his head in frustration as headache throbbed from over-thinking things. Dammit, he could never win, could he?

Everything cuts like a knife; all of the thoughts just kept getting worse as his mind wandered further into what would happen. He didn't doubt it; Alfred is straight.

_Throbthrobthrob_; the headache just wouldn't go away, and Arthur was getting sick of this. He long ago had come upon the decision that he wouldn't be able to get to sleep without the help of a pill of some sort. Shuffling and stumbling over things, he made his way to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. He scanned each label, _cough medicine, ibuprofen, Ah there it is. Sleep aid._ He quickly picked it up and took the maximum dosage, placed the bottle down and returned to bed.

As his thoughts continued, Arthur drifted off into a dreamless, miserable sleep.

"Wakey wakey~" _Poke… Poke. _"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!"

Blinking the blinding sunlight that filtered into his eyes, England slowly opened his eyes when all of the sudden the light was blocked by something. Wait... What was blocking it?

Azure blue eyes met his as he studied what was blocking his view. Wait. Only one person he knew had those eyes. His eyes snapped open and he sat up quickly. "A-Alfred? What the hell?" _Just great!_ "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"I'm here to get you up, obviously."

"… Well, no _shit_ Sherlock, I could figure that ou-"England didn't manage to finish as America cut off by saying, "So... That makes you Watson?"

"What the bloody hell? What are you blabbering about?"

"You called me Sherlock, so that makes you Watson! My sidekick!"

"… Sure?" England then realised that they were still fairly close, cueing his face to flush a bright red. "GIT, get off!" He didn't want Alfred to see how he _wasn't_ shivering from looking into those amazing eyes.

"Fine then!" came the retort, "No eggs and bacon for you!" The younger country turned away pouting and crossed his arms. The git still had yet to get off the bed—of course. Arthur rolled his eyes and shoved the idiot off the bed. "Oof! What'd ya do that for?" England chuckled—No, Not giggled you wankers, it wasn't feminine at all—lightly at the man who was on his back on the floor.

"Now, where's this food you spoke of?"

The nation brightened and in lighting speed was off of the floor, grabbed the petite country's arm, and dashed towards the kitchen. The small man's heart fluttered as they awkwardly ran towards the kitchen—which wasn't far from his bed, so Arthur didn't know _why_ they were running—and he felt something swell in his chest. "Is this… Happiness?" He muttered too low for the other man to hear him. Something answered for him, startling him. "_Yes Arthur, this is happiness._" He looked up to see a… cat? It was a cat floating in mid air? _Did I drink too much last night?_

Wait a minute. Arthur hadn't had _anything_ to drink last night. Not a sip! So, why did he see a floating cat? He quickly looked back to where the cat was—or had been apparently. It was gone, disappeared. Just like that. _Now I'm just going insane._ He thought bitterly, though the thought went away as they reached the kitchen, all that time had seemed like minutes, when really it had only happened in a matter of seconds.

A scent soon wafted in the air and as England sniffed, he soon recongised the scent was bacon. Sadly, it wasn't Canadian bacon, but he supposed that America wanted to stay local to his own foods. His guesses were confirmed when they entered the room and he saw the packaging lying on the table. He sighed; it looked like Alfred's bad habit of not throwing things away would never stop. As he was picking up after Alfred, the younger country spoke up.

"I needed to make sure you had _decent_ food so you wouldn't be sick or something today."

Flinching, Arthur knew that blow was unintentional. Alfred really needed to learn how to belt up. "So... What are we doing today…? America?" He didn't get a response for a bit. Did the bleeding git even hear him? "Did you hear me America? Alfred!"

"I heard ya ol'Man! I was just thinkin', geez cool ya jets. I think we should hit up an arcade. Maybe a museum or two, then to top it off, a Club!"

_Fuck. Fuck. He mentioned it, deny it Arthur! You know it'll only lead to bad things_. ".. Sure... Why not?" _Why'd you agree?_ Honestly, Arthur didn't know what made him decide to agree, something beyond his conscious control had told him.

As a plate was placed in front of him, only did it click in his mind _how_ hungry he was. Apparently his stomach wanted to let everyone else know as well, as a deep grumble erupted from it. The other man turned and laughed, "Gosh Artie, one'd think you were starving ya self or something!" In reality, it had some truth to it. He wasn't intentionally starving himself—he had just missed a couple of meals and was now regretting it.

As he shoved—though in a _very_ gentlemanly way—the slippery eggs into his mouth—over-easy, how'd Alfred remember that?—Arthur let a small smile slip back onto his face. He relished the taste of Alfred's cooking—only because it fed him! Not because he liked it or anything!—and it began to fill the empty void known as his stomach.

As he began to munch on a piece of bacon, he was startled by the other man plopping down into the chair across from him. Arthur lowered his eyes again, studying the tablecloth, slowly munching on the bacon. Out of the corner of his eyes he watched the younger country prop his elbows on the table and rested his face in his hands. Face growing hot; he realized the man was staring at him. "Wh-What are you looking at, git?"

"You. Ya know, you have dark, mysterious green eyes… They're very interesting, really."

"Oh… That so..?"

"Mhm!"

"… Well then... I'm done... I guess…" Nothing made Arthur feel more awkward than when someone was staring at him or investigating his appearance. He shivered slightly under the intense blue gaze. Silence lingered in the air until Alfred broke it.

"Let's get goin' then?"

"… S-Sure."

And with that, Alfred grew the largest smile Arthur swore he ever saw, grabbed his hand, and headed for the door. Arthur was pretty sure another chuckle-remember, not a giggle!—escaped as they headed for outside. "Wait, my jacket!"

"Screw your jacket, I'll just pay! Besides I doubt you have much of _my_ money."

Grumbling, Arthur reluctantly left his jacket on the hook. They headed down the hall—only then did he notice their hands… were still interconnected. "Um.. Alfred?"

"Nnn?"

"… Nevermind."

"Mhmk."

He decided to just leave it, though he did notice his hand began to grow hot, along with his face. Damn heat! He wasn't blushing! Blushing was for schoolgirls-not gentlemen like Arthur.

Soon they passed the front desks, getting snickers from fellow countries, and questioning looks from other human's standing around. He swore he heard a wolf-whistle from Prussia, but he'd let it go. For now he should concentrate on the time he spent with Alfred. Who knows, it might spark ideas. God knows he needed some of those.

Sunshine warmed his being as he walked outside. It was a nice change from yesterday's incident with the river. Arthur couldn't believe how suddenly—how rapidly his behaviour had changed. He was a depressed, lonely, cranky old man, as Alfred had put it. Now, the man whom had _made_ him that depressed man was making him feel... Happy, whole, like nothing else could bring him down right now because he loved the man _that_ much.

As the day progressed, they had gone to see the latest horror flick—during which Alfred was clinging to him the entire, no-not that Arthur enjoyed that or anything! Geez, you all must think he's lovesick or something. They had also been to the local arcade. No matter how hard Arthur tried, he could never get those blasted games to work properly! They must be rigged or something, because only Alfred seemed to be winning tickets—which was not fair. He wanted to win that big unicorn animal. N-Not that he wanted it for _himself_ but for some lucky maiden when he wanted to woo them. Yeah, that's it. However he must have been caught eyeing it by Alfred—for when the man cashed his tickets, the very first thing he picked out to get was that unicorn, in all of it's sparkling pink glory. The unicorn was then handed to a flustered Englishman who denied that he wanted it, yet took it and turned away; petting it like it was a real unicorn.

After the arcade they had gone to the nearby park. The peaceful atmosphere was a nice change of pace from the busy arcade and movie theratre.. At least it was for Arthur. Alfred—on the other hand—complained constantly about it being "Too boring" and "almost as sleep-worthy as croquet".

"Fine then, Mister I-know-everything-entertaining, what shall we do?"

There was a moment of silence between them. Arthur standing, arms crossed and a frown upon his face, Alfred tapping his chin with his finger, eyes staring at the sky.

".. I know _just_ the place to go!"

For some reason, that tone in Alfred's voice… Arthur didn't like it.

"'tender! Get me... Another one... Of whatever he's been orderin'." The slurred speaker was no other than the so called English gentleman. Yes, the place Alfred had thought of was a bar—Arthur refused to let it be called a pub.

"Artie-man! You're slammed! Ahahaha~" Both of them were drunk silly. Of course the place that Alfred had chosen wasn't only a _bar_ but a _strip bar_. Arthur had looked at the woman, watched them dance. Nothing sparked inside him. He truly was gay—but Alfred didn't know that. And Alfred seemed to _very much enjoy_ the view that was held in front of them.

Arthur—on the other hand—was simply enjoying the time spent with Alfred. Not everyday did they spend a whole day together. The pleased smile—in some sickly way—made him happy.

"Heeey, you two are cuties~ I dun think we've seen you around here before." A pearly white smiled flashed at them. Both men turned their gaze the newcomer. It was a remarkably pretty brunette, hair cascading down her shoulders and brushing her back. Her skin complexion was fairly tan, natural from what Arthur could tell. Her looks were completed with very light blue eyes. Even if Arthur is gay, he could easily tell this woman was a 9.5. Competition.

"Hey there, who is this beauty that we are so luck to be graced with?" Flirt. Alfred was such a flirt. And it stabbed Arthur's heart.

"I'm Chontelle, you?" Pretty smile flashed. Flirting right back. Of course.

"I'm Ame-" Arthur quickly poked Alfred in the side, "_She can't know you bleeding wanker_." He hissed. Turning back to the girl he offered an apologetic smile. "My apologies, my partner here is just a little bit… tipsy. I'm Arthur, this is Alfred."

"Wow, such oldie names~! Well, those names are uncommon now, so it's cool. Old-school, but cool." She nodded, smile never faltering. As Arthur looked at his partner, he could see that the man was obviously fascinated by her. _Why can't I do that to him? _He sighed inwardly and smiled at the woman. "So what-" He was about to ask what she was doing there, when she interrupted.

"Say you, Al—I can call you right?—Wanna join me on the dance-floor?"

"How can I turn down such a beauty?" The taller man smirked, standing up from his bar-stool and leading the girl over to the dance floor.

Several more glasses of beer later, Arthur couldn't even think straight anymore. _No Alfred, don't worry. You're only crushing my feelings, destroying my heart. Nothing big at all._ He thought depressed, glancing towards the dance-floor again. They were still there, grinding away to some slutty song. How could Alfred degrade himself so much? Where had he gone wrong?

"Can't you see what you do to me?" He sighed as he downed the rest of his glass. It was crap—American quality beer. He sneered; it was hardly worth being called _beer_.

"Gay, huh?"

Arthur glanced up to the barkeeper. He blinked when he saw who it was. "Heracles?" He choked out after a moment of silence.

"Yeah, I like to work at bars in random places. So, you really do have the hots for Alfred, Kiku wasn't just over-reacting. Hn.." Arthur's face flushed a deep red. So _that_ was the knowing look he got from his long-time friend.

"Good luck."

Arthur turned his gaze—which had unknowingly turned it's way back to… _him_.—and he nodded. "Yeah... Thanks."

"No problem. Want another?"

"Yesh..." and with that Greece handed one more glass to Arthur, and after the man had finished it, he was now bladdered(A/N: Means he's drunk.)

"Alfwed! Git ov'ah 'ere!" The man shouted, not realizing his actions. The blonde blinked and turned to his dance partner, who only giggled and ushered him towards his friend. England was obviously arseholed(A/N: Another term for drunk.) and even an oblivious git like America could see that.

"Hahahaha Artie man, you are smashed!"

"No I ain't."

"Let's get you back to the hotel, you're gonna start throwin' up soon." This only earned a grumbling response as they headed out the door. "See ya Heracles!"

"Good luck!" the Bartender shouted back, quietly texting his boyfriend about the UST surrounding the two at the moment. It was only a matter of time.

The walk home was deathly silent. Neither man brought up any topic of conversation. All that flooded Arthur's mind was how hurt he was by Alfred's actions. As they approached the park that they had been in previously, the peacefulness was still there. It only made Arthur more enraged. "You sure had fun, didn't you?"

"'course, I'm sloshed and she was pretty." Alfred shrugged like it was basic information.

" Oh, of course. Of course!" Arthur hissed, "Then of course _I'm_ abnormal because I don't feel the same? Because you doing such action kills me inside? Because your carelessness and horny self can't control itself, just like my heart? Because you fucking know what Alfred F. Jones? I'm infatuated by you, but you don't care do you?" He snapped, the words tumbling out, not in his control.

Then, his drunken body did what would frighten his normal state—he pulled Alfred's collar down to his face, smashing his lip on the other man's. He couldn't believe it when he thought he felt Alfred… _kissing back_. No. It couldn't be. Alfred wouldn't. Alfred was _straight_. _America_ was straight. He tore away, not wanting to feel the pain ripple in his chest anymore.

England didn't dare look at America. He turned away, towards the hotel and ran home.

What he didn't see as he raced through the hall, into his room, and slammed the door, preparing for a hangover was Alfred standing there in a state of shock, and the only words that escaped the man's lips were.

"He loves me… back?"

**A/N: I am so cruel. Stopping it there on you guys. XDDD**

**Man, I was right, this WAS fun to write.**

**Oh, and no one guessed on my age! ;w; Gilbo **_**and**_** Heracles have cookies for those who guess. I'm curious—I want to see how old you think I am. XD**

**Sooooo Sorry for the late update. I've been SO busy. ~ I did a Play, and now I have Finals. I plan on having chapter six done by Sunday. It's the last chapter. ;w;**

**Then I confess! Oh lovely!**

**Byes everyone!**

**Review please?**


	6. The Place Where Wishes Come True

**A/N: Final Chapter, can you believe it? I sure can't! XDD;;**

**I thank those who followed this to the end—if you did so. x3**

**Monday is the day I tell her, can't say how nervous I am. X.x**

**Thank you all those who review/story alerted/favourited, always makes me happy! :D **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia nor will I ever.**

**Enjoy**

Arthur got a mere three hours sleep that night, the hangover he had was _not_ pretty. As he threw up for about the fifth time that hour, he vowed _never_ to get that smashed again. Every time he managed to drift off, he only got about an hours worth of sleep before suddenly jerking awake and throwing up again.

Sunlight filtered in, awaking Arthur from the third hour of sleep he had managed to get. Groggily he got up and rubbed his forehead trying to get the throbbing pain to go away. Why did he continue to drink? Every single time he awoke with a massive headache and was miserable for at least a day. No way was he allowing anyone to see him today, let alone… someone.

He felt like he had done something, something he would regret. What the hell did he do? He reached back into his memory, trying to un-blur the images. Nothing happened, and he quickly gave up. Whatever it was, it obviously wasn't important enough to remember, so he should just forget about it and get on with the day...

England sighed; maybe his mood would lift if he had a spot of tea. That sounded awfully good at the moment. He reached into his cupboard, picking out Earl Gray tea. As he waited for the water to boil, he thought about what he should do.

"… Aw fuck! I can't bleeding believe I forgot to write more of that letter! Lord knows I should be filled with ideas." He scowled looking into his tea. He saw his reflection. A very exhausted looking English man with thick eyebrows glared back at him. "What's got you so beat up..?" He muttered, knowing he was lucky to be alone. Lord knows how Alfred or Francis would react to seeing him talking to a _teacup_.

Staring into his cup of tea, he recalled part of the previous night. Part that had been erased of his memory by the alcohol;

"_Iggy, you're bisexual right?"_

"_Alfwed, you know we all are."_

"_I know, I know, but it's been buggin meh. What's ya type of guys?"_

Arthur flushed a deep red at the memory, dammit, why did Alfred ask him that? Luckily, from what his memory served, he did not answer it-For if he had, Arthur wouldn't know how to respond…

His headache soon began to fade as he continued to relish his tea. Maybe he would write some of the letter after it was gone. Heading over to the medicine cabinet he looked for the ibuprofen which he had seen when he looked for sleep aids. _So much has happened in this past week… Gilbert confessing his love for Matthew, me finally…. ad... admitting… that… Dammit. Say it Arthur._ "I love Alfred F. Jones who represents the nation of America." He blinked as he was able to say the words aloud. Maybe he could go through with this confessing thing. He smiled softly, and for once, noticed it was a genuine smile, not a smirk, not a fake smile. But a real, you-know-you-can-do-something-you-would-have-never-imagined-doing smile.

"_Awfer_." England froze at the sound of a little kid's voice. It sound a lot like the cat and dog he had seen. Slowly turning around, not sure what it was going to be—he knew his mind was thinking _OhshitOhShit. I hope it's not Sealand, pray it's not the little pest._

What he saw however did have some relation to the lad. Well… at least in the lad's _name_. Floating in midair was a fish; it looked rather mystical, but from what Arthur could see, it was a fish much like the one in Nemo. Clownfish was it? Yes, he believed so. Such an odd name for a fish.

"_Awfer, you're finally coming to terms, you've faced the past._" A flash of the revolutionary war whizzed by them so fast Arthur could almost not comprehend it. The feelings surged through him; Regret, sorrow, loneliness, disappointment, so many feelings wretched his heart.

"_You've faced the present_." This time images of the time Alfred and he had spent together flashed through his head and a smile found its way back on his face as the pain and sorrow was replaced with happiness and good tidings. Then Chontelle weaseled her way into the memories and he lost the happy feeling inside him. He had forgotten about the man he love's dirty dancing with the girl. He didn't have any judgment against her, but it hurt him to see Alfred with anyone else—let alone a _girl_.

"_It's time to look to the future._" As Arthur was surrounded by a mist he felt a weird feeling inside—it was as though any ill feelings Alfred had left on him were gone. Just like that. He had never felt more alive.

"_Go get 'im Awfer_." The icing of the cake then appeared in his mind. It was of the kiss he had shared with Alfred. His face flushed at the very memory, and his heart swelled when he remembered, "He… He kissed me back?"

"_Yes. Go write, you'll get vistors soon so you need to get down as much as you can. Let the past, present, and future, inspire you_."

…

As Arthur was furiously writing, a loud knock echoed on his door. Startling him from his concentration he shrieked before shouting, "Who is it?"

"King of Awesome and Awesome Junior!"

Ah, so it was Prussia and… what was his name? _Oh yeah… Canada… Right._ He smiled that he even remembered the lad's name. "Come in, Come in. I leave it unlocked."

The two shuffled inside the room, Prussia leading them over to the couch before they sat down—or rather Matthew sat down, Gilbert plopped onto the couch. Arthur chuckled, placing his pencil down and standing up. "So what got you two here?"

"We heard—of course!"

England turned stone cold. "Heard… what?"

"You confessed dude! Congrats! Mattie here told me! Alfred came stumbling into their room and Matthew was so concerned that he had Alfred tell him." Wolf whistle. "Kissed him huh? You sure didn't hesitate."

By the time Prussia finished explaining, Arthur swore a deeper red couldn't possibly be seen than his face. Fuck, he had been hoping that would remain between them.

"Y-You've go-got it all wrong… I didn't confess… at least, I wasn't conscious of confessing. I was arseholed—I mean drunk. It was a mistake, honest."

"Dannng, here I was hoping you went ahead. Wait, your hands, they look sore." A grin spread across Gilbert's face. "Man Artie, you seriously are gonna confess? How awesome—of course, not as awesome as me!"

Canada chuckled and lightly punched Gilbert's shoulder. "Gil! Can you say one sentence without mentioning yourself as more awesome than something?" Gilbert's face took on a red tint and he rubbed his hair. "Kesese, but it's true Mattie!"

Matthew simply shook his head, effortless to reject that Gilbert wasn't awesome. He sighed a playful sigh instead. "Anyways Arth—I mean England—we came to see if you would like to play a game of football with us." He smiled sweetly, "Unless, you're too busy of course. I mean I'm sure you'd want to clear it up with Alfred or something, but if you wanna write, that's fine."

Arthur wasn't sure which Matthew as insiting on him, to write or to explain to Alfred. "I-I think I'll pass. I... I will clear it up with Alfred… Ju-Just not right now…" He nodded to them.

"Ah hell Artie~ Lighten up. Unless you're going to write or explain, you better not have another reason to pass. But remember, it's due by tomorrow." Gilbert stood up, pulled Canada up with him, startling the poor boy, before laughing that laugh that only he seemed to make. Before the former nation was out the door, Arthur grabbed his arm, ushering Canada to continue on. 

"Good luck Gil, don't give up, don't give up unless he's gone. Which I can see he never will be gone, because you two are best friends.

At first all Gilbert did was blink at him, then the man put on a chesire cat-like grin and nodded before heading out the door behind his friend.

…

Past, Present, and Future… The odd fish was right, Arthur could do this. He smiled as he neatly signed the letter. He was finally done. The letter could be handed to the person it was intended for.

Only one thing was left for him to do, and that was to explain to Alfred.

Oh... God…

"You're a strong gentleman Arthur. You used to be a fierce pirate. People feared you. Don't let this get in your way."

No matter how many times those words repeated in his head, Arthur couldn't tame his nerves. Where was Alfred so he could explain? That's when the conversation earlier popped up into his head, was Alfred playing football with the others? He would assume so—from the way that Canada mentioned him.

When he reached the fields—after grabbing the letter and poems, which he attached to said letter—he saw that not only were Prussia and Canada playing, but the Frog, Spain, the Italy's, Germany, and America were as well.

As he approached them, he heard two girly shrieks—though you tell Romano that and he'd rip your head off… Or rather Spain would for him... or agree and freak out over how 'cute Romano is'. Would the Italia brothers ever get over being afraid of him?

"Do no fear me, gits. I come un-armed." He muttered, just loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone froze; several of them looked at him, to his envelope in his hand, to America. Before anyone said anything, he stormed over to Alfred, grabbing the man's hand, slapping the letter into it saying, "Here's your damn explanation, respond to me at the… _park_ tomorrow."

…

And that's what lead up to where Arthur was now. A shivering mess out in the cold waiting for someone who was never going to show… maybe he should really give up. Go home. _But I worked so hard for this_. Something kept him in place; something made him want to stay there.

The rain poured from the sky as shivered. Damn his humane sense that made him feel the cold. Damn the world. Damn Love, damn everything! _Why feel love, it only crushes you in the end_.

His knees finally caved from underneath him and he fell to the ground, all the feeling of love from the memories gone. Reality finally sunk in. Love only ends in pain, for everyone. Here he probably ruined his relationship with Alfred forever.

Good-Bye special relationship.

"Iggggggggyyyy~?"

A voice broke the once silent air. It was so startling, instead of heading towards it, he crouched away. _Mind, don't play tricks on me. It's not kind and I don't want to be let down more_. In the midst of crouching away, he ran into a sharp branch on the bush behind him. "Ow! Fuck."

Shit. Shit. Shit. He was supposed to be silent, let his mind stop the hallucination—not feed it by making noise. He further pushed himself into the bush, not caring of the pain that seared his body. He thought the plan would work—until azure eyes peered into his. "There you are." America whispered.

_Hallucination, it's a hallucination._ "G-go away… l-leave me alone… You're not real…"

"Ouch Artie, you got something wrong with you? 'Course I'm real." The… _thing_ pouted. If Arthur hadn't known better, he would have believed him.

"N-no you're not…. So… So go away!" He retorted—voice cracking mid-sentence.

"Oh really, I'm not am I?"

That's when reality truly hit Arthur, right as the younger nation gently leaned in and pressed his lips against his. Alfred… Was here… Alfred… Responded to his letter. As everything sunk in, he realised he wasn't kissing the man back—which was rude considering _he_ confessed. He put all the passion he could muster—all the pent up wanting into the kiss. He needed to makes sure the feelings got across. What made him flutter, made his heart soar to a new level, was the fact that Alfred was kissing back with just as much passion. They broke apart only for air and America whispered.

"You really do love me, huh?"

".. Mhmp…" Arthur turned a deep red and turned away, not retorting.

"Well good, because I kind of love you too."

England could feel his face light up—humans and nations were so weird, weren't they? Entire days—lifetimes even—were made by a few words. Whatever, he didn't really care. Alfred loved him, he had denied it, but it was true. They both were madly in love with one another.

"Artie, let's head back ok? You need to get packed up." Oh. He had forgotten. He now had to return home. The conference was over. "Visit soon, ok?"

"I will; promise." He nodded smiling gently. A genuine smile, no smirk.

Alfred helped him get to his feet, and holding hands they walked back to the hotel.

"Ya know what's kind of weird and gross, Iggy?"

"I'm not sure I want to know; but what?"

"This morning I found my brother making out with that… _Prussia_. How can he like a guy like him?"

"I don't know Alfred, ask me."

_End._

…

"You'll never know. You'll never understand this fully. Pearly-white smile, amused-glittering eyes that greet me every morning. We don't wake up near each other. You're only so far away. Yet that distance names my life, sentences my feelings, shuts them away.

As you reach this line, you're probably very confused, you oblivious git. You have no idea why I've handed you this letter, do you? Unless you actually figured this out-then I applaud you. This letter is attached to something, and if this letter doesn't clear it up, that certainly will. I myself didn't understand this really at first. I being what the Japanese call a _ツンデレ__,_ aka a _Tsundere_, have denied it for days, weeks, months..

But maybe I don't feel like denying it any longer, maybe part of me wants _you_ to know. I deny it still, because that's my personality. I know you say what you say, and maybe by now you've realized what this letter is about. Just finish reading this letter and give it a bloody chance, ok?

You're perfect, in every way-shape-and-form. At least in my eyes that is. You've asked me what's my type, and I quickly told a lie. You want to know my type of guys?

They're beautiful, usually tanner than me a bit, blondish coloured hair. Usually dirty blonde. They have perfect teeth, which are so white; I cannot find a proper thing to compare them to. I tried, and nothing really compares. They also have soft, full-of-life eyes that are always full of energy.

Their personalities? Well, they are almost always cheerful; it is rare for them to be depressed. Though when they do get depressed, I tend to get depressed as well. It hurts to see them in pain or miserable. I just want to hug them tightly and take it all away. He and I interact in different ways, but most of the time, and especially this time, we bicker constantly. Yet if you catch us at the right moment, we can be quite kind to one another-when we're not punching each other because of a childhood game.

Is this making that oblivious light-bulb flicker in your head yet?

I like spending time with those guys. I love spending time with them.

I act like I hate it.

Do you get it yet?

Do you get who's the object of my infatuation?

Have you figured out who I love?

I'm not saying directly, let's just say. You know him, in fact you know him very well. If you didn't know him, you'd be pretty fucked up.

Maybe my signature will give you a hint.

I know you will not return these feelings of mine, these that have tortured me for at least a century.

I wish you the best of luck in life.

I love you always,

Arthur (England) Kirkland"

**A/N: Ps, in writing this, England's two character songs played back to back. My music is on shuffle. XDD**

**It's done. It's finally. Done. I cannot believe this. Like Whut.**

**Tomorrow I confess. If you want to know how it goes, message me and I'll let you know. **

**Oh, and for those who guessed my age, really? 17-ish? –flushes- I feel flattered, but as you got in my reply, I'm 15. /**

**For those Rochu fans, look forward to a possible oneshot. My friend requested one.**

**Over and out!**

**Review is love, help spread the love! **


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